


there are always traitors in our midst

by cryptibs



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Blood and Injury, Canon Divergence, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, i wrote this all in one night please help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:33:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28545651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptibs/pseuds/cryptibs
Summary: yes i got this idea from the end of ranboo's stream on the 3rd. no i will not be explaining any of my theories from that.anyways tubbo corruption arc is amazing and i love it with all my heart (also i have a feeling it may turn out to be canon so)warnings: blood, injury, cursing, ranboo gets YEETED, unsympathetic tubbo, just general angst and yelling and such bc i wanna see the readers cry >:]may rewrite the ending bit into something more detailed bc im an indecisive fool
Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	there are always traitors in our midst

Loud footsteps thundered across the wooden planks, playful shouts and teasings being thrown around easily.

Colorful streamers and banners hung from rooftops and ledges, splashing the dull brown of spruce in a brighter tone.

Tubbo took hesitant steps up to the stage, staring at the ground so hard it was surprising two burning holes didn’t follow his gazes’ path.

A call of his name made him look up, startled eyes meeting Niki’s own blue ones.

“Tubbo? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m good! Don’t worry about me!”

Niki hesitantly smiled back at him, turning away to continue the conversation she had been quietly having with Ranboo.

Tubbo continued up the creaky stairs, now faced with the official government seating area. 

Making his way across the stage, he stood before his chair, awkwardly staring down at the citizens of L’manburg.

He cleared his throat, attempting to gain the attention of at least a few people below. None of them looked up besides from Sam, who had already been watching after he said he’d be starting the festival soon.

A loud yell of “QUIET!!” rang out across the open space, making nearly everyone flinch back in surprise.

Tubbo shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat after not being used to often speaking above a murmur. 

Eyes bored into him, nervousness overtook his mind instinctually for a moment, before he pushed it down, continuing on with the speech.

“L’manburg, as a nation, has always been a great power,”

A chuckle from below, he glanced down, only to see Sapnap elbowing Dream in the back of the small crowd. He looked away quickly, not wanting to draw attention to the pair.

“We have always triumphed, in the face of danger, we have always pursued our hopes, and protected our people. We have chosen what is right, for the good of the people. For the good of our country.”

He breathed in, calming his nerves. He could do this. He wouldn’t be shoved around or ordered about any longer, he would finally have respect, as a president, as a friend.

“Sadly, though, we have always had traitors, even in the thickest of battles. Those traitors sometimes go undetected for a long time, waiting to put their evil plans into action.”

Tubbo thanked the gods that Eret wasn’t there, the glares he already was receiving from multiple L’manburg citizens below was enough to show that they didn’t like this part of the speech.

“As president, as your leader, it is my rightful duty to seek out these traitors, and reveal them to the public eye, to let it be known that they are not to be trusted.”

Whispers from below, questions he couldn’t exactly catch, only faintly hearing the tones of confusion. 

“It came as a shock, to find that we have already had a traitor, though. Living among us as a trusted and loved friend.”

Cries of shock, confusion, accusations being hurled at him instantly. What was he to know? He was but a child, he knew nothing of the people’s alliances!

But he did know. People often seemed to forget that he was one of the first to join the revolution, to face an enemy he thought he could once call a friend. To feel the cold grip of death on his consciousness so early in life.

Tubbo continued, ignoring the increasingly loud insults.

“I call upon a.. friend, a new number to our ranks. Ranboo. Please walk up the stairs.”

“Wha- wait what?”

“HE’S DONE NOTHING WRONG TUBBO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” A sharp, accented voice called out, attempting to shield the taller boy from his gaze. 

“He’s only just got here? What the hell are you doing, accusing him of being a traitor?!”

“Yeah! And I thought you were friends, what changed?”

“ENOUGH!”

The harsh cry silenced the raging crowd below, echoing easily off of the wooden deck.

“I have proof! Definite, undeniable proof! That this man is a traitor! So don’t even THINK about arguing with me! I’ve had it up to here with all of you treating me like a child!”

Quiet followed his words, no sounds other than the distant rustling of tree branches brushing against each other.

“Ranboo, please step up to the podium.”

Short taps filled the silence, Tubbo watched as the tall boy made his way up the staircase, constantly awkwardly hunched over in an attempt to appear less intimidating. 

“Mr. President? Tu- Tubbo?”

“Ranboo, glad you could join me up here.”

“Well you, you literally asked for me to-”

“Do you know why I’ve called you up here? Mr. Boo?”

“Y- you kind of announced it..? I mean do you not remember? If not that's ok! I can get not remembering stuff sometimes-”

“Shut up, Ranboo.”

“O- oh-”

Tubbo spun to face the crowd again, clutching the one piece of evidence he had against a perfectly innocent man. 

Well, innocent in everyone’s eyes. But not his. Not after he found out what the man had been doing without his knowledge.

“Everyone! I will now present my evidence!”

He held up a small leather journal, the words “DO NOT READ” scrawled messily across it’s front in blue dye.

“This,” he started,

“-is the diary of a traitor. Inside are the comings and goings of a mastermind of manipulation and deceit.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tubbo watched as Ranboo attempted to stretch out a hand to grab the journal, then clearly thought better of it, hesitantly crossing his arms uncomfortably across his chest.

Questions were yelled, how did he know the journal was his? How did he even get ahold of it? How do they know it’s not just faked and written by him?

Tubbo breathed in, attempting to try and calm himself from shouting harshly again. It was a bad habit.

“I found the journal a little over a week ago, searching for a certain item I had loaned to Ranboo.”

A deeper voice interrupted him from continuing on, mismatched eyes staring at him from his peripheral vision. 

“If I may intrude, that journal was in a private chest, of which was clearly labeled for people to not snoop in-”

“AHA!” The sudden shout made the man finch back across the stage, arms hugging himself tighter.

“And there it is! The confirmation that you all wished for! This journal is owned by him! Straight from the horse's mouth!” A grin stretched across Tubbo’s face, not exactly helping the theories that Tubbo had set the man up.

“Can- can I at least explain it? Can I explain myself?”

“Why of course! Have the floor, Mr. Boo!” The tone nearly sounded mocking, and accompanied with the sort of half bow he did as he stepped out of the way, it made him seem even less.. stable than before.

“Well- uh, I know it looks bad, real- really bad, but please trust me on this. It wasn’t my choice.”

Tubbo switched between watching the stuttering man stumble his way through an excuse, and looking at the crowd that.. somehow was seeming to believe him?

“Truthfully, I was pressured. peer pressured, I-”

Tubbo couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him, the words reminded him all too much of a familiar memory.

“Uh- is there a- is something funny?”

“No, no it’s just, I find it amusing. The similarities I mean.”

“Similarities? Of what?”

“Of you, and the pig, or Techno, as you may know him.”

“Excuse me? I-”

Tubbo interrupted, just now finally realizing how powerful he was in this position, as president, and as somebody that had undeniably sound evidence against a traitor. 

“The voice, the excuse of being ‘peer pressured’, it all can connect you two! It’s comical, really.”

“I know my voice, maybe, but I didn’t know-”

Tubbo stepped back up in front, having to tilt his head to look at the far taller man in the eyes. Even slouching, the enderman hybrid was one of, if not the tallest figure there. Maybe only rivaled by Sam.

“It all just makes sense, you know?”

“No I don’t know-”

“Rhetorical question, Ranboo. It all makes sense, the sudden disappearances after any sort of conflict or planning, the strange questions that have nothing to do with the topic at hand. The letters being written right before another visit is paid by our.. chilly friends.”

“That's just coincidence! None of that is-”

“Its not just FUCKING coincidence! It's a clear hint at you being a spy and a traitor! Why do you even bother trying to deny the facts when I literally have a journal filled with you marking down the locations of our enemies in it?!”

“I- I just-”

“There's no excuse you can make up! No “peer pressure” you can blame this on! This is your decision, and yours alone!”

“I didn’t have a choice, I-”

“You always have a choice. And you chose to align yourself with the enemy.”

Straightening, Tubbo looked over at the crowd of people, which had nearly been silent the entire argument. He summoned an item into his hand, the enchants on it causing it to glow gently in the fading light of the evening sun.

“Do you know what we do with traitors, Ranboo?”

Fearful eyes watching as Tubbo deftly clicked back a crossbolt trigger, he ignored the shouts from below, instead focusing on the words he would hear next.

“No- no I don’t..”

“Usually, traitors would reveal themselves mid-fight, and their friends, would have to suffer the consequences of never realising it earlier.”

Tubbo stepped forward, putting the crossbow at his front, aiming it directly at the hybrid’s chest. 

“But this time, luckily, we get to nip the problem in it’s bud, to make an example of the traitor. To show, that if this were to happen again, that the consequences would be far more severe.”

“Please- please, I don’t- I’m sorry-”

“You wanna know what we do to traitors, Ranboo?”

“We execute them.”

And with that, the loud pop of a firecracker set the scene in motion.

Blood smudged against the wooden planks, a scream of anger and the clash of swords rang out sharply in Tubbo’s ears.

He stared down at the corpse of who he thought he could trust, and realized something.

So many times, he had been called Schlatt. So many times. Over and over again.

Maybe he wasn’t Schlatt, though. 

A grin split his face, blood spattered across his cheeks.

Maybe he was worse.


End file.
